


Falling Heights

by red_rabbitx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn, immortal keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-08 23:23:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14704632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_rabbitx/pseuds/red_rabbitx
Summary: Keith is an immortal who forgot how to live, and Lance is a lively boy who's determined to show him.(Rated mature for violence, cussing and dark themes. Please do not read if suicide, self-harm or depression is a sensitive subject for you.)- - ON HIATUS - - Check redrabbitx.tumblr.com for more information!!





	1. The Boy Who Descended Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> this is my very first fanfic and i can't stress enough, if people actually read this, how important constructional criticism is for me. it'd be very much appreciated if you could leave a comment with your honest thoughts! don't be afraid about being blunt or brutal, i'll be able to handle it :). also just wanna add that this is so fun to write, and if you like it, you'll probably be seeing more in the future. :)

_Death_.

A word most would be terrified of experiencing-- and yet, this one word, this word that's meant to ignite fear or grief into somebody's heart, is the most comforting, but frustrating word in Keith's entire existence. Such a simple, one syllable word holds all the power in the world. At some point in his life, he was afraid of it. Terrifyingly so. But that was the past, and in the present, as Keith stood at the edge of the tallest building he could climb, he was determined and fearless.

His body stayed rigid, even against the howling wind battering his skin in the dead of night, threatening to tip him over the edge itself as he gazed across the city, many colourful lights dancing through the darkness, vivid even from this distance. He breathed in a breath which would, hopefully, be his last as he teetered closer towards the edge, refusing to close his eyes. He wasn't scared, after all. Death was something he yearned for, has been yearning for years. 

And in that very moment, all he did was shift his weight forward to be plunged into the hands of the relenting wind, beating against his pale skin, his long, unkempt dark hair whipping around behind him. He didn't think of anything in this moment, or  _anyone_ , but that was because he had nobody to think about in his final moments. Well, nobody he was  _fond_  of. He sure as hell wouldn't think of the ones who did this to him...  _Fuck_.

___

"Hey, Lance..." Hunk wearily called from beside the shorter, lanky boy, "are you sure we should listen to Pidge?"

Lance snorted, walking slightly further ahead, "come on Hunk, what's there to be afraid of? I've been through here countless times."

"Yeah. In daylight."

"Relax," Lance drew out as Hunk began to twiddle his fingers, walking at a slower pace, "you don't really believe what Pidge said back there, do you?"

"Uh, about the ghosts of people who got murdered in this alleyway haunting those who enter at night? Because yeah, I-uh, I kinda do, Lance."

Lance laughed at his best friend's unease, feeling fearless in the dark alley that was inhabited solely by stray cats and mice. Unlike his friend, he didn't believe in ghosts or supernatural beings. He liked to believe he was brave. But his friends thought differently after a certain embarrassing incident that led him to screams of horror with tears running down his face during a certain scene in a horror movie. He'd never live it down, but was determined to redeem himself with every chance he got. This was as perfect as ever, with rumours floating around that this particular alleyway was a ghost nest with ghosts that only appeared at night. Pidge had dared him to use it as a short cut home in order for her to stop sharing the story of his girly screams with every person he knew, and Hunk was forced by Lance to tag along as his witness. It took a lot of convincing and Lance's infamous puppy dog eyes, but he succeeded, promising to buy him as many cakes as he wanted in return.

With every step they took, Hunk's fear became ever-more present, and he was practically shaking in his shoes while sweat rolled down his face. Lance, on the other hand, kept up his brave front, though was beginning to feel the same fear seeping into him after suddenly hearing a couple of stray cats mewling at each other and mice shuffling through bags of rubbish. He wouldn't admit his fear to anyone aloud, though.

But they both pushed on, and Lance swivelled around on the balls of his feet to face Hunk, walking backwards, "see?" He said, "there are only cats and mice."

"Cats and mice, cats and mice," Hunk repeated, almost as a chant or spell to quell his fears, "just cute cuddly cats and mice." He paused, thinking of all the diseases mice spread, but suddenly brightened up at the next thought, "Allura has mice!" He exclaimed, his face lighting up, "they're just like Allura's mice!"

As Lance turned back around to walk in a straight line again, he tripped over what he thought was probably a stray rubbish bag, but when he landed on top of a limp body, his head banging against what seemed to be the chest, his blood ran cold and his entire body froze.

"Lance?" His friend called out to him, still a couple paces behind, oblivious to the fear welling up in Lance.

Lance couldn't help the scream building in his throat as he lifted his head to come face to face with the ghost -- no,  _corpse_  -- but then the eyes of the corpse flickered open in what seemed to be agitation, its brows knitting together in what could only be anger at Lance's rude awakening.

As he unleashed the scream that bubbled in his throat, Hunk had caught up and he, too, had let out a deafening scream of his own after seeing the situation. Only Hunk managed to run away, leaving his friend and companion to deal with a most angry ghost corpse.

Lance continued to hold his piercing scream almost comically, until the angered ghost-corpse-thing opened its mouth.

"Get off of me and shut the fuck up!" Its voice was deep, rough and masculine. It was angered, but was sad all the same. Lance's mouth immediately snapped shut.

"You-" He yelled back in return, all fear suddenly dissipating once realising the voice was human, "what right do you have to yell at me when you're the one who's lying around in a haunted alleyway?"

"Haunted?"

"Ghosts! Haven't you heard the rumours?" Lance bellowed into his face, his eyes only now adjusting clearly enough for him to make out a couple features of the very human and alive man beneath him. His eyes had immediately been drawn to his hair-- an  _atrocious_  70's haircut --a  _mullet_ , of all things.

"I don't care about ghosts! Just get off of me!" The boy with the mullet screeched, though Lance noticed that the boy hadn't moved an inch, didn't even flinch when he had fallen on top of him. Was that normal? Then again, a mullet in this day and age wasn't normal either. Nor was napping in a haunted alleyway. In fact, the  _whole boy_ screamed abnormal.

Lance finally realised the precarious position he was in, having his arms on each side of the boy's torso who was half-leaning against the wall of a tall building with one of Lance's legs resting in between his crotch.

He threw himself away, perhaps a bit too over-dramatically, and glared at the boy with the mullet who stared back at him with what seemed to be disdain, but something else was there too. Lance couldn't quite put a finger on what it was, and just as he squinted his eyes to get a better look--

"What are you looking at?" The boy ended up snapping, interrupting his thoughts.

"Wha-" Lance spluttered, his brows furrowing, "aren't you going to move,  _mullet_?"

"Why should I move? This is my spot, idiot, and you're intruding," he growled, a sharp edge to his voice.

Scowling, Lance took an even better look at the boy. He was covered in cuts and bruises, his clothes slightly torn and ripped with dirt blanketing his forehead and cheeks, dusting across his nose too, though it was difficult to see through the darkness of the alleyway. But Lance had better eyes than most. While he was usually labelled as aloof and laid-back, that didn't mean he wasn't observant. After all, he ate his carrots like a good boy when his mamá asked.

The boy looked exhausted to say the least, but then again, Lance  _did_  interrupt his nap, and it  _was_  pretty late. But the injuries the boy brandished had Lance wondering if he had been jumped or something; it wouldn't have surprised him, he did have a bad attitude. Or the bad attitude could have stemmed from something different. He could have been going through one of those teenage phases and decided to run away. That, too, wouldn't have surprised him.

"You run away from home or something?" Lance finally decided to ask, before adding, "your parents are probably worried, you know."

The boy glowered, almost hissing at Lance, but he still didn't move a single muscle. Lance began to worry if he was in serious pain, and wondered if he should call an ambulance.

"I don't have parents," he spat as though the words were venom in his mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry," was all that Lance could say as he began to feel his face heat up, a sudden guilt twisting in his chest, "do you at least have a home? Want me to call someone for you?"

He shook his head in reply, all the while scowling. By now, Lance could tell a scowl was most likely the boy's default facial expression. He seemed to do it a lot. Or Lance himself could be the reason for it, he did, after all, just bring up the topic of his dead parents. He couldn't help but feel sympathy for him, maybe that was why he was so bitter, Lance could never imagine a life without his parents. Or siblings for that matter.

"Can you move?" Lance asked as he leaned closer towards the boy.

"What? Does it look like I can?"

Lance rolled his eyes, "do you want me to call an ambulance? It must be bad if you have all those injuries and can't move."

"No!" the boy shouted, maybe louder than Lance's scream moments ago when he stumbled across the boy, and his eyes widened with pure hatred and fear. He began panicking now, Lance realised.

"Hey, hey, calm down!" Lance reached out for him and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, "I won't call an ambulance, and you may be an ass, but you're seriously hurt, so I'm going to help whether you like it or not." His mamá had raised him to be kind and help others when they needed it, so this was all he was doing, he thought to himself.

Lance sighed, squinting his eyes at the boy, wondering how he'd be able to successfully move him back to his and Hunk's apartment without hurting him.

Grumbling, Lance moved forward, perching himself between the boy's legs who began to splutter, demanding what Lance was doing, but Lance only grabbed a hold of his arms, which were scarily cold, and threw them over his shoulders while he grabbed underneath his knees, hoisting the boy onto his back. Through struggling, Lance managed to stand up, securely holding the boy who was ice cold on his back.

"What are you doing? Put me down! Who even are you?" The boy yelled, his breath tickling Lance's cheek from where his head rested on his shoulder.

"Uh, the name's Lance and I'm helping you," he replied as he began to tread forward, the weight being barely tolerable, the trek to his apartment being fuelled on his mamá's words and determination alone.

The boy had went silent after that. And so did Lance. But Lance was beginning to feel the silence become suffocating, and he was compelled to break the ice in some way or other.

"What's your name?" Lance asked, feeling awkward as he kicked a stone lightly with his foot, careful to keep his balance.

After a long silence, where Lance thought the boy had fallen asleep, he finally replied, but with a certain venom, almost as though he hated having to tell Lance, or he hated the name. Or he hated himself.

"Keith."

The rest of the journey was made in silence, much to Lance's dismay. He had wanted to speak up several times before they made it outside of his and Hunk's apartment, but something told him that the boy with the mullet, Keith, didn't enjoy small chatter. He wanted to ask what he was doing in the alleyway, all scratched up and stuff, and at some point, Lance had wondered if the boy was apart of the mafia, and thought that if he managed to learn anything, then people would come after him to silence him. After that thought, he decided against asking.

"Hunk's so not going to appreciate me bringing home an angry living corpse," Lance muttered to himself as he fumbled for the apartment keys in his pocket, momentarily letting go of one of Keith's legs.

"Living corpse," Keith repeated so quietly that if he hadn't been so close to Lance's ear, then he would've surely missed it.

"That's right, mullet," Lance said, finally slotting in the key and twisting it, opening the door to step through, Keith still ice cold on his back.

He took the key back and re-lifted Keith's dropped leg with his hand,  gently kicking the door to close behind him. It was an old kind of door, creaking upon impact.

"Hunk?" Lance called out, his grip on Keith beginning to loosen by the second, the once blazing determination slowly being extinguished, "are you here?"

He waited a few seconds.

"Lance?" The familiar voice filled with fear called back, "is that you?"

"It's me, buddy," Lance began walking down the dimly lit hallway of the apartment, coming to a stop in the living room. He could see by the light that Hunk was cowering in the kitchen, a rubbish bag held tightly to his large chest, his face green. "What? I know you get car sick, but ghost sick, too?"

Hunk groaned, not looking up from staring at the white, pristine tiled floor that he always made sure was spotless. Which was probably a good thing considering the corpse with a mullet on Lance's back.

But then Keith coughed, unable to suppress it. It was an unfamiliar sound to Hunk's ears, and he automatically looked up, his eyes locking with Lance's before drifting towards the limp head resting on his shoulder.

"Don't scream!" Lance yelled as his friend's face contorted into a flurry of emotions, the most noticeable ones being shock and fear. But instead of screaming, Hunk froze, his eyes refusing to look away from the limp body, no matter how much he wanted to. Bile began to rise in his throat, and he found his head buried into the rubbish bag once more.

Lance moved away from the kitchen, managing to set Keith down on their plush chocolate brown sofa before his arms gave out. He heaved an exasperated sigh, brushing slender, tan fingers through his short brown hair.

When Hunk finally managed to break away from the rubbish bag, his eyes darted towards Lance who was approaching him. Without the corpse. "Oh, thank God," he muttered, "did I just imagine a corpse on your back?"

"Yeah," Lance replied, though it was not a lie considering that Keith was alive and angry. He practically saw the steam coming out of his ears when Lance set him down, though he hadn't had said anything. "Though I did just bring in an injured boy who's constantly scowling," as Lance watched Hunk's face drop, he added, "though not a corpse! I promise!" Hunk still didn't say anything, so he continued, "he's injured Hunk! And he got all panicky when I suggested calling an ambulance, and he has no where to return to, Hunk! He has no parents! He's an angry asshole, but don't you feel even a bit of sympathy?"

"Lance," Hunk sighed, "you owe me  _so_  many cakes."


	2. The Boy Who Felt Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yOu kIdnApPeD sOmEonE! painpainpainpain. J O I N U S.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the feedback! haha i got so happy i literally got straight to work on the next chapter after having a mini meltdown of happiness.

"So," Hunk started, swallowing a piece of the chocolate cake Lance had bought him to pay off one of his many debts, "you're telling me that you brought home a homeless person?" He stopped to lick the chocolate off of his fingers, "he's not an abandoned cat, Lance!"

"An  _injured_  homeless person," Lance corrected, sitting beside Keith who was still limp on the chocolate brown sofa, though Lance noticed Keith's eyes shift almost nervously back and forth between himself and Hunk as they discussed the matters at hand.

"I'm right here," Keith spoke up, frustration laced between his words, "though I don't want to be," he muttered under his breath.

He truly didn't want to be there, vulnerably sitting on a stranger's sofa while the Galra were no doubt looking for him. He shuddered at the thought of being found. He'd done  _so much_  to avoid being caught these past couple of weeks of freedom, if you could even call it that. He'd tried _so many_  ways to end his life, end the torture that's surely to come if he's captured, the torture he  _had_  went through. He was tired of it. Sick of it.

"There you have it," Hunk said, gesturing to Keith, "he said he doesn't want to be here. Do you know what that means, Lance?" He asked, getting flustered, "it means that you've just kidnapped somebody."

"Wha-" Lance stuttered, "I did  _not_  just kidnap someone. I helped them!"

Keith sighed with agitation, his fingers tingling as they slowly came back from numbness. He watched silently as Lance and Hunk began to argue about whether he was kidnapped or not, but he tuned their words out. He focused solely on the tingling sensation, flexing his fingers at his side to try and speed it up.

He'd go numb whenever his bones broke, but the tingling sensation, which was much like pins and needles, were always a tell of when the feeling returned. But that also meant the pain that's brought with it too.

He grimaced as the pain of breaking his fingers reached him, and he tried not to yell out in fear of showing any weakness towards the two oblivious boys. That was the one thing he hated showing most. Weakness. And yet that tall lanky boy, Lance, had witnessed him in his most vulnerable state. He hated it.

"I'm just saying," Hunk said as Keith tried to focus on the words they were saying, a means of distraction from the ever-growing burning sensation that spread from the tips of his fingers agonisingly slowly, "that maybe, we should call the others over. They can help with this."

"What? You mean the whole gang? We can't call all of them, Hunk!" Lance yelled while outstretching his arms to emphasise his point.

"We should at least call Pidge, you know? And Shiro. Shiro would know what to do."

"We'll call Pidge but only if you tell her that I did it. That I walked through the alleyway without breaking a sweat," He folded his arms and turned his head away as if to finalise what he'd said.

"Fine, Lance, I'll tell her that you did it," Hunk sighed, "but for now, maybe we should leave Coran and Allura out of this. If Allura knew, she'd probably contact authorities regardless of what... Keith wants, and if Coran knew, he'd tell Allura."

"I can get behind that." Lance nodded in approval, a smile across his face.

But by now, Keith's fingers were twitching in pain as the regeneration process began, the tingling sensation had reached his shoulders, and began spreading down towards his torso, and up to his neck. His eyes had become glassy, and his face slick with sweat that rolled down in beads. It was too much. He couldn't handle it. The two boys would notice sooner or later, he should may as well get it over with. Let the Galra find him. They're bound to, anyway. He may even have the luck to die in one of their treacherous experiments.

He winced, and the two boys turned to see him in his weakened state as he finally let out a cry of pain. He keeled over, hissing as Hunk fumbled for a phone and Lance paced around him, completely flustered with not knowing what to do.

Keith eyed the phone in Hunk's hands, and he growled, "don't!" His breathing had become laboured and colourful specs had started to dance around his vision, "don't call the authorities," he managed to verbalise before losing consciousness.

___

Lance watched in horror as the boy's glassy eyes closed, his limp body falling further into the sofa, unmoving, save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. The only way he knew that Keith was still alive was by the laboured breathing and the furrowing of his eyebrows. He seemed to be in a lot of pain, and Lance had brought him over to try and help the poor douchebag, but was he really this useless?

The boy had even said so himself that he didn't want to be taken, or rather, he probably could've been able to tell just how useless Lance was, knowing he wouldn't be able to help. He suddenly regretted taking the boy in. Regardless of what he had said, he should've called an ambulance, or anyone that  _wasn't_  him. Because Lance was just Lance, a useless goofball who was good for nothing.

The choked cry that came from the now writhing boy snapped Lance out of his thoughts, and he quickly rushed over to his side as Hunk began to speak to someone through the phone. Hopefully it was the ambulance he had called, and Keith, despite how irritating he was, would be safe with people who were actually useful, and Lance would be able to return to his days of being anything but.

He gripped Keith's shoulders to try and calm him down, but this only seemed to set him off even more. He had began to try and twist out of Lance's grip, his arms flailing around, to Lance's surprise as he thought the boy had been paralysed. But then his hands found Lance's on his shoulders, and Keith's fingers laced around his wrists before digging sharp nails into Lance's skin, drawing blood.

Lance bit back a cry in return, and he heard Hunk desperately yelling through the phone, but Lance was too preoccupied to listen to whatever he had been saying. Instead, with his hands still on Keith's shoulders, and Keith's claws still digging into his skin, Lance watched in utter horror as Keith's head came surging forth, his forehead knocking into Lance's hard enough that he was forced to let go of the boy's shoulders, falling backwards.

Keith then started to cry, his body falling backwards as his screams got louder, eventually becoming hoarse and choked through the sobbing. Lance had tried again to hold the boy down before his flailing had hurt himself, but instead, his efforts had been unfruitful as he took a hit across his temple.

Lance hissed out in pain, glaring at Keith as though he had meant to hit him, but the glare quickly vanished when Hunk's large hand gripped his shoulder, "Shiro and Pidge are on their way," he said, his voice hesitant in the sound of Keith's pained cries.

It didn't take long after for Pidge and Shiro to come bursting through the door, worried expressions etched onto each of their faces. It didn't suit them. If Lance had just managed to run away with Hunk when he stumbled upon the boy, then his friends wouldn't have been feeling the way they were feeling. It was his fault. If he had left Keith there, then somebody else could've walked by and actually helped him.

Pidge, with her laptop tucked under one of her arms, came running forward, throwing her laptop, somehow gently, onto the coffee table. She sat down in front of it, pulling up the screen before glancing back and forth from Keith to the computer. The rushed tapping of her fingers against the keyboard was quickly muffled out by his screaming, but she didn't lose focus.

Neither of them had to ask to know that she was already pulling up different medical advice for the symptoms Keith had been showing, and with her brows furrowed together, they could tell that she had become serious in her research.

Shiro had also rushed in, a little slower than Pidge, but he had ran straight to where Keith was, and when his eyes trailed across his face, he froze. Lance could immediately tell by his eyes that he recognised the boy writhing around in pain.

"Keith?" He asked, his voice shaking while his face quickly became pale with distraught.

"What? You know him?" Hunk asked with surprise, turning around to face Shiro.

"We-we were friends back in school," he said, "but we were all told that his entire family had died in a car crash." He paused, his mouth opening and closing as though he were at a loss for words, "including him."

Lance's face paled, and a small bit of hope, joined with fear, shock and disbelief knotted in his chest. Maybe he hadn't been so useless after all? Reuniting two friends together, even with the gnawing shock that Shiro had said he was meant to be dead.

He soon would be though, if they didn't do anything about whatever it was he was going through.

Pidge let out an angry shriek, slamming her hands down on the coffee table, frightening them all, "it doesn't make sense!" She gritted, "the only passable solution it could possibly be would be a heart attack, but even then, it just  _doesn't make sense_." She turned to them all, "if it was a heart attack, he should be clutching at his chest where his heart is, since it's an automatic response to pain, but he's not doing that. He's just flailing around!"

"It doesn't matter," Shiro said, returning from the dazed person he had just been, "how can we help someone having a heart attack?"

"CPR," she sighed, "somebody needs to perform CPR on him."

Hunk turned to Lance. "Hey, Lance, don't you remember that basic first aid class you took once? Didn't they teach you CPR?"

"Shiro should do it," Lance grumbled without hesitation, "he was there too." He didn't want to have another person's life as his responsibility, he was too useless. Besides, Shiro already obviously knew the boy, so wouldn't it be better to step aside and let him help Keith?

Shiro nodded. "Alright," he shifted closer to Keith before turning back around to Hunk and Lance, "I'm gonna need you two to hold him down."

Without a reply, Hunk moved towards Keith's legs where he pinned them down with ease while Lance grabbed Keith's wrists, struggling slightly as the boy began to thrash around even more at being held down. He began to cry again. And then he began shouting.

"No! Stop! Let me go!" He screeched before his eyes flew open, wide and fearful. But the pain had seemed to go along with it. Keith looked around, perplexed. Lance and Hunk's grip had loosened on his limbs when they realised he had woken up.

They all stopped to stare at him, completely frozen in surprise. Pidge had slowly closed her laptop while Hunk and Lance removed their hands entirely from his limbs, walking around to peer at his face.

Keith's eyes travelled from one person to the next. From Hunk to Pidge, Lance, and then-- Shiro?

His eyes stopped when they landed on Shiro, and he almost held out his hand to touch him to ensure he was real.

"Shiro?" Keith choked out, his voice sore from all of the screaming and sobbing.

"Keith?" Shiro asked in return.

"Hunk!" Hunk exclaimed with joy before becoming more serious when they all stared at him wordlessly, "that was a-uh reference, if you didn't know, and as touching as this reunion is, the guy had just been rolling around in pain before waking up all fine and dandy. Is nobody going to question this?"

"It isn't anything to worry about or question," Keith gritted, turning from Shiro with a scowl on his face, "it's my personal problem to deal with when it happens. I don't need you guys to be around when it does."

"Keith—" Shiro started, but was cut off.

"No!" He yelled, his voice cracking, "I wasn't meant to see you again."

"Keith," Shiro tried again, kneeling down in front of the boy who was still sat on the sofa. He gently rested his hands on his shoulders, but quickly retracted when the boy flinched under his touch, "what happened?"

"I can't tell you." He said as he averted his gaze to a wall that was decorated with framed pictures of the four people in the room with him, sometimes with two others. A beautiful woman with dark skin and flowing, wavy white hair. The other person was a man with ginger hair and a moustache.

As Keith's eyes dragged across the photos, he came across another with a lot of people squeezed in together. He could just barely make out Lance, who seemed to be squished amongst many different versions of himself. They were most likely his family.

He smiled halfheartedly to himself at that. He wished he had a family. One as loving and caring as Lance's seem from the photo, all with soft gazes and joyous smiles. As though their bond was unbreakable.

"Keith, we need to get you to the police," Shiro suddenly said, breaking him away from his longing gaze, "and maybe a hospital."

Keith's eyes turned cold, the small smile that appeared on his face completely wiped off. "No!" He roared, making an effort to leave the sofa in the hopes of never returning.

Shiro grabbed his arm before he could get too far, and his grip tightened a fraction when Keith flinched again.

"Then stay here," he said softly, "I won't call the authorities, but only if you stay here."

Keith turned around, watching how Shiro's eyes portrayed every emotion he could think of— sadness, hurt, betrayal, hope, anger.

"I can't," he said again, though softer.

Lance piped up from where he and the others had been observing their exchange. "You can. We won't mind," he offered a reassuring smile.  Offering a place in his home may be the only thing he can do for the obviously distressed boy, but at least it was something.

Shiro smiled, though it was sad. "See? You're like a younger brother to me, and to leave again-" he stopped to fight through a sob, "I-I can't go through that. Not again." His grip tightened even more on Keith's arm, as though it would stop him from ever leaving again.

"You don't understand." Keith choked out, sighing shakily, "I'm  _running_  from something I absolutely can not tell anyone about, and the last thing I want is to drag people into my mess."

"Keith," Shiro smiled, "you won't have to drag anyone, because we'll be dragging ourselves." He looked over all of their faces, observing each and every detail that could give him some inclination to how they all felt. His smile grew at the result. "Right, guys?"

"Well," Pidge grinned and readjusted her glasses, "I'd be happy to help,  _but_ , give us a heads up next time before you go through... whatever it was you went through. Oh, right, I'm Pidge by the way."

"Same for me, man," Hunk said, "and I also give you my thanks for making Lance owe me so many cakes, I'll share some with you next time."

Lance spun around to face Hunk with an accusing finger. "Hey! You never share your cakes with me, and aren't I your best buddy?" He asked, crossing his arms before turning back to Keith who stared at them all with shock, "but yeah, you can stay at mine and Hunk's if you really are homeless, since Shiro is living with Allura and I bet they don't want their  _lovey-dovey_  time to be disrupted, and Pidge still lives with her family, so that would be kinda awkward."

"And there you have it," Shiro grinned at Keith, "so stay with us. It doesn't have to be forever but, at least let us help you. You're a friend, after all."

Keith stared at them, watched their hopeful gazes on him, watched how they shared nervous glances with one another. Surely these people couldn't be apart of the Galra, especially considering how Shiro was amongst them. Especially considering those eyes that displayed innocence, though with the exception of the one named Pidge whose eyes held a devious glint, but a harmless one.

He nodded, sighing. "Alright," he said quietly, but as everyone turned around to cheer, for whatever reason, Keith wasn't sure, he raised his voice to be heard clearly, "but not for long."

 


	3. The Boys Who Became Rivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> project?!?! video games.. sleep.. shOck.. project?!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT!! Falling Heights will be put on hiatus, and maybe completely re-written. please check my tumblr (redrabbitx.tumblr.com) for more information. I hope you forgive me for how sudden this is, but I am also working on something else. Information about that too can be found on my tumblr. thanks for understanding!

After Keith had showered, Pidge and Hunk left together to buy some snacks at the convenience store that was, conveniently, open 24/7. It had gotten rather late, almost reaching one o'clock, but Hunk and Lance had insisted on a game night as a way of celebrating Keith's addition, though Keith had found it pointless considering he wouldn't be staying for long.

Regardless, he found himself sitting back on the plush sofa, gazing into a blank TV screen as Lance shuffled through a cabinet nearby, pulling out mountains of games, creating separate piles of 'acceptable' and 'unacceptable'. He mumbled to himself as he did so, commenting on each game he pulled out.

As far as Keith knew, Shiro had shuffled into the kitchen for privacy as he talked to his girlfriend, Allura, on the phone. He had found out that Allura was the girl with dark skin and white hair he'd seen in the photos, and the man with the moustache was one of her, and the others', closest friend.

"Alright!" Lance said with glee, wiping his brow before taking the pile of 'acceptable' games and placing them on the coffee table between the TV and sofa. He disregarded the 'unacceptable' pile, most likely leaving it for Hunk to clean up when he returned.

Lance looked at Keith, catching his eye before gesturing towards the pile of games on the table, as though he were meant to know what to do with it. Keith raised an eyebrow, but Lance stayed silent, not getting the hint.

"What?" He finally asked, inclining his head forward as emphasis.

Lance sighed. "You're meant to look through them and pick out the ones you want to play, and leave the ones you don't over there," he pointed over his shoulder to his 'unacceptable' pile.

"I don't-- Why?" He eyed the pile, "I don't get it."

"What don't you get?" Lance demanded, his eyes wide in shock, "just choose the games you like from that pile. That's it!"

Keith eyed him warily, but reached for the pile and brought it into his lap anyway. His eyes sped across each cover of the games as he flicked through them, the names not really registering in his mind.

In the end, he decided to add them all to the 'acceptable' pile, not really sure what ones he'd enjoy. He never had the luxury to play games before. Especially expensive ones like these.

Lance glared at him for his decision, but decided not to say anything. Instead, he took the pile from Keith and sauntered over to the kitchen for Shiro to do the same process.

As Lance left, Keith sighed and leaned backwards further into the sofa, bringing his knees up so that he could wrap his arms around them. His eyes felt tired and heavy, but his mind couldn't quite convince himself to sleep because of the nagging fear and nervousness that ate away at his conscience. He still didn't trust these people. Shiro could have changed since the last time they met. It'd be way too risky to let his guard down.

Lance returned with a stride, game cases in hand, though less of them this time. He took a seat down next to Keith who automatically shifted away from him. Lance noticed and cocked an eyebrow.

"Hunk was wrong," he muttered, watching how the boy curled into himself, inching further away. "We really did bring in an abandoned cat."

Keith didn't say anything, but glared from where his nose sat in the crook of his elbow, his arms resting against pulled up knees. A cat was something he was often compared with, especially by one of the Galra scientists.

Lance sighed by the lack of response. "You don't talk much, do you?" He tilted his head. "Gato enfadado." His lips slowly curled into a grin as Keith's face scrunched up in confusion, his eyebrows tightly drawn together.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." Lance hummed, a small yet proud smile on his face as he stretched out his arms and legs with a yawn, until Shiro appeared in front of his sleepy gaze.

Shiro smiled down at him apologetically. "I won't be able to stay for game night. Allura wants to discuss matters about..." His gaze shifted towards Keith warily, considering whether or not he should say it aloud. "...the thing."

Lance heaved a heavy sigh, groaning as he flopped backwards to lean into the sofa. "Bet you just don't want to get your ass beat by Pidge  _again_." He smirked playfully as a light red blush dusted Shiro's cheeks.

"I-No." He said, regaining himself. "It's serious. Coran and her have found..." There. Again. He stopped as his eyes drifted to Keith's. "They've found some new information regarding  _our project_."

Lance jolted forwards at that, almost falling from the sofa. "Seriously?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with hope — one of the few things Keith drastically lacked in his life. Hope was something he had a long time ago, but gambling with the devil caused the loss of it.

"Yes." Shiro said, though not happily. "But it's not good news."

"What happened?" Lance was out of the sofa now, standing in front of Shiro who towered over him. "Should we get Pidge and Hunk?"

"No. I'll discuss what's going on with Coran and Allura first, and then we'll call everyone together to talk about it."

Lance and Shiro exchanged their goodbyes as unease settled into the pit of Keith's stomach. What if they were actually dangerous? Whatever the project they talked about was, Keith wasn't liking it. They may seem friendly on the outside, but so did that Galra scientist. He can't trust these people. He can't trust Shiro. He can't trust anyone. He never could, and never would.

He may have said he'd stay, but that was when these people seemed to be normal civilians. No. He'd leave as soon as possible. Tonight, at best.

When Shiro was done with his goodbyes to Lance, he turned to Keith and gave him a sad, but curt nod. Keith returned it as naturally as possible, but he knew it came out as cautious. If he noticed, Shiro didn't say anything as he turned his back and walked towards the door.

Upon reaching it, he was met with the wood slamming into his head, Pidge and Hunk managing to open the door first just as Shiro was reaching for the doorknob. He let out a small exclaim of pain, rubbing his forehead where the door had hit. Pidge peered her head around to see what had happened, only to snicker once finding Shiro. 

Their voices shortly became muffled from where Lance sat, but he could hear the confusion and worry in his friends when they spoke. It only made him feel the same worry and confusion. He knew Shiro was only relaying the information about the project, but the worry was still ever-present.

His eyes drifted towards Keith, the boy who was tightly curled into himself, his gaze darting around the room, almost fearful, as though he were trapped in a box with no way out. It made Lance wonder what had happened to him for him to become so paranoid and jittery, flinching whenever somebody went to touch him.

He must've had a bad life.

Keith's eyes finally rested on his, realising that Lance had been staring at him with sympathy. He glowered, shifting uncomfortably as Pidge and Hunk joined them, back to their usual selves as though they hadn't just been told there were bad news for a project they had been working so hard on.

"Guess what!" Pidge exclaimed, a bag full of goodies held tightly to her chest, "Hunk's  _finally_  allowing us to have as much junk food as we want," she turned to Keith with a grin, "we should've found you sooner."

Keith smiled awkwardly, the sincerity of the smile nonexistent. Lance wanted to ask him what was wrong, ask him about how he had changed tunes so quickly from when they first met. He wanted to ask him so many things; the boy was a complete mystery and he seemed to like it that way.

But Lance was naturally curious. And Keith was most certainly intriguing to say the least. He found himself staring yet again, but found that the guy was actually rather good looking when he wasn't covered in dirt.

He frowned at himself. Sure, he was good looking. His type, perhaps. But Shiro was good looking too, and so was Hunk. Though Shiro seemed more like a father figure, and Hunk was his best friend. And Keith? Lance wasn't sure what Keith was. He wasn't even a friend, more like a stranger or acquaintance. He just looked nice, that was all. Lance decided to leave it at that. 

"So..." Pidge mumbled from where she huddled around the coffee table with Hunk, "that leaves us with Mortal Kombat." She let out a devious deep chuckle, a sort of chuckle that you'd hear from a villain. She knew they had no chance at beating her. She wasn't sure if Keith was much of a gamer, but it'd be interesting if he was.

She tossed the 'unacceptable' pile that Hunk and her had been sorting through aside, earning a small yelp from Hunk when the game cases hit the ground.

"You didn't have to throw them," Hunk whined as he grabbed the Xbox controllers and switched the console on. "Who's going first?"

"I'll let you guys have a go," Pidge grinned, wanting to watch how well Keith played so that she could analyse his movements and counter his attacks.

"Lance?" Hunk asked, watching as his friend ripped his eyes away from Keith who kept silent the entire time.

Lance turned to him, the confusion clearly evident in his face and voice. "Hm?"

Hunk sighed, throwing a controller over to him. Lance caught it with ease, even in his state of confusion. "You're up."

"I am?" Lance asked, but gained confidence. "Well then, who's my unlucky challenger?" He grinned.

Hunk turned to face Keith, offering a controller. Keith stared at him with his brows drawn together. "I've never--" he started, catching himself. "I don't really... want to play."

"Aw, come on man," Hunk cracked a warm grin before explaining to him the buttons on the controller, letting him in on all the best combos as Pidge set the game up behind him.

Keith reluctantly ended up taking the controller, though was still unsure on how to properly use it. If the Galra had caught him with such a thing, he'd have been sent straight to the isolation room. 

The weight of the controller felt rather heavy in his hands as he traced his pale fingers over the grooves of the different shapes, feeling how smooth they were.

"Hell yeah!" Lance cried as he chose his favourite character from the menu, hearing Hunk mumbling about how he  _always_  chose Sub-Zero.

It took a while, but Keith realised that they were now waiting on him to choose his own character. He eyed all of the ones on the screen, but only one managed to strikingly stand out to him. He looked down at the controller, hovering his finger over the button Hunk had told him to use before his eyes locked back onto the character he wanted.

When he managed to choose his character on the game menu, Lance laughed lightly beside him. "I had a feeling you'd choose Scorpion, Sub-Zero's rival." He turned to face Keith with a grin. "We're rivals now, so I won't go easy on you."

Keith watched him through eyes that displayed sheer determination. The grin on Lance's face had sparked something from within Keith; he wanted to win. He was unsure why though, whether it be pride, competitiveness, or just a means of proving himself, he knew he wanted to win. And would do anything for it. He found the edge of his lip twitch slightly upwards, which didn't go unnoticed by Lance whose face lit up at the sight.

His brows drew together in concentration as Pidge and Hunk watched them, beaming at the two boys who, by their facial expressions, seemed to be getting on well.

"Fight!" The announcer of the game yelled, kick-starting the match so quickly that Keith fumbled with the buttons as Lance expertly controlled his character to mercilessly attack Keith's.

Keith let out an agitated grumbling noise that made Lance's eyebrows shoot up, turning to face him just as Keith unleashed deadly combos to Lance's character, listening to Pidge who was yelling combinations to him from the sidelines.

It was too late when Lance turned back, his health had already deteriorated by half. He glowered, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he fought back against Keith, often getting more hits in than him.

And soon enough, Keith was growling in frustration at his defeat when Lance's character, Sub-Zero, began to demolish Keith's Scorpion. "Fatality," the announcer of the game had said as Keith let the controller slip from his hands.

"Again." He grumbled, clenching his teeth, "I'm not going to lose next time."

__

Two hours later and the four of them were squeezed onto the sofa, sleeping peacefully. Hunk had been on one end of the sofa, Lance on the other, lying on his back as his long limbs took up the majority of the room. Keith had somehow gotten himself wedged in between Lance's side and the back of the sofa, his head resting on the rise and fall of Lance's chest. Pidge, on the other hand, had slept curled up all snug next to Hunk.

Keith's eyes flickered open with a strong urge to stretch from cramped limbs. He frowned, lifting his head up only to be greeted with a snoring Lance. Panic began to seep in as his eyes darted around the room, finding Hunk and Pidge sleeping soundly on the other side of the sofa. Since when did they all fall asleep? Since when did  _he_  fall asleep?

The panic grew, and before he realised it, Keith found himself crawling across Lance's stomach to try and get away. He threw himself over the edge of the sofa, landing on his back as his breathing rate began to increase.

He scrambled to his feet, standing on shaky legs as he made his way over to the window. He peered outside, and his heart sank at the result. It was already morning. He was meant to have left last night. He shouldn't have--

"Oh. You're up?" Lance's sleepy voice called from the sofa and Keith turned around to watch him stretch, accidentally kicking Pidge in the process.

Pidge stirred. "I'll fucking kill you, Lance." She muttered in her sleep.

Lance and Keith stared at each other in utter horror. Pidge, Keith thought, was definitely the most dangerous of them all. 

They stayed in silence for a while, listening out for Pidge to say anything else or wake up. Lance sighed a breath of relief when she showed no signs of reigning any more terror.

"So..." Lance drawled as his eyes scanned Keith who looked panicked, "you're not gonna suddenly start screaming out in pain again, are you?"

"No," Keith growled, "I'll know when it happens."

"You'll warn us next time, right?" 

"There won't be a next time," he averted his eyes from Lance, instead gazing at the rubbish packets from all of the sweets they munched on last night.

Lance's face brightened. "Really? So that was a one-time thing and won't ever happen to you again?" 

Keith glanced at Lance, long enough for him to see a genuine smile spread across his face. Was that normal? Were smiles usually something that could be genuine? Keith's heart fluttered briefly at the thought of somebody smiling at him genuinely. His mind probably just played a trick on him.

Just as Keith opened his mouth to reply, a tune began to ring throughout the room and Keith found his gaze dart around, trying to find the source of it so that he could deem it as a threat or not.

Lance wiped his eye and sighed, reaching for a device on the coffee table, putting it to his ear just as the sound stopped. "Shiro?" He asked into it.

Keith watched with caution as Lance's eyes began to widen, and soon enough, he was using his feet to wake up Pidge and Hunk who began to yell at him until they saw his expression.

"Oh, man, what is it?" Hunk asked, sitting up.

Lance swallowed. "It's the  _project_."


End file.
